


The Most Beautiful Men's In The World

by letgoofmygreggo, VexedBeverage



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, smornby, the most beautiful man in the world, xephgor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letgoofmygreggo/pseuds/letgoofmygreggo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VexedBeverage/pseuds/VexedBeverage
Summary: This is a work inspired by the tumblr post about 'The Most Beautiful Man In The World Who Lives In My Building And Only Ever Sees Me When I Look Disgusting. ( Link - https://www.ofgeography.com/single-post/2016/05/28/The-Most-Beautiful-Man-In-The-World-Who-Lives-In-My-Building-And-Only-Ever-Sees-Me-When-I-Look-Disgusting )Ross and Tom have a rough time of it whenever they see their crushes.





	The Most Beautiful Men's In The World

Ross woke with a feeling not unlike a drill being forced into his temples. Everything hurt. His limbs were heavy and clumsy as he pushed himself up from the floor where he had apparently slept the night in his friend's living room. 

Trott was nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs sleeping like any normal person after their heavy night. Ross felt grotty and gross. His mouth dry and the smell of stale alcohol seeming to come off him in waves. He assumed that someone must have spilled some on his clothes from the off coloured patches down the front of his wrinkled, white shirt.

He needed to go home and shower. And possibly pass out again. Or die. 

In a stumbling haze, Ross managed to find his shoes and jacket and get out of Trott’s house and down the road towards the flat he shared with his best friend. 

The sun was too bright, the ground too hard, jolting him with every step sending pain and nausea through him. It was with great relief that he opened the doors to the lobby and stepped out of the light. 

It was only a few flights up to his flat but he forwent the stairs by the door and instead made his way to the lift, his body was just too heavy to climb. 

Initially Ross ignored the footsteps that halted behind him, obviously also waiting for the lift. He didn’t look over to the other person until they were both inside and the doors were sliding closed. 

Ross’ hand lingered over the large button marked ‘4’ as all breath left him. 

“Four, please.” The man said, flicking his eyes towards the button where Ross’ hand hovered close to it. 

Ross didn't move. Couldn't move. Standing next to him, in the lift to his flats was, who he could only describe as ‘The Most Beautiful Man in the World’. 

The man's eyes travelled from Ross’ outstretched arm up to his face, a smile like a sunrise bloomed across the man’s face, white teeth flashing before he looked away and dropped the smile. 

Ross leant forward and pressed the button before leaning against the wall, trying to look nonchalant as his stomach threatened to escape through his mouth. 

The silence was deafening as they ascended. Ross snuck sideways glances to his left at the man who seemed to be avoiding looking in his direction until the lift finally dinged and the doors opened. 

Ross stood stock still as the man left, having to reach out with his arm to stop the doors closing so he could also exit. Ross watched as the man reached flat 418, unlocked it and went inside. A booming laugh emitting from the flat in question as soon as the door closed. Ross was pretty sure that it had something to do with him. 

Ross had to struggle against the need to groan as he shuffled the rest of the way to his flat, his keys too loud as he shook them out to find the right one so he could get inside and pretend that the last hour or so since he woke up were all just a bad dream. 

The snorting, uncontrollable giggles of his best friend and roommate greeted him as he entered. 

After a few moments, whereby Lewis continued to laugh, he finally caught his breath and spoke to Ross. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

Ross grunted at him. “Went out with Trott last night. I’m hungover and already having a bad day so just, fuck off.” He huffed, falling onto the sofa face first. 

Lewis approached, perching on the edge of one of the cushions. “I did tell you taking that whiskey for pre drinks was a bad idea.” 

Ross shook his head, his face still pressed against the cushion. “No. Not that.” He said, voice muffled. “I just saw ‘The Most Beautiful Man in the World’ and I look like shit and I think he was laughing at me.” 

Lewis raised his eyebrows. “Of course he was fucking laughing at you, you dickhead!” 

Ross turned his body and gave Lewis a harsh look. “Why are we friends again?” 

“Ross.” Lewis said, pausing for a second. “You literally have a dick. On your head.” 

Ross sat up, his head spinning a little at the speed of the movement before he pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and swiped to unlock it. 

The image that looked back at him, once he had his front facing camera pointed at himself would have usually made him laugh. A large, thick black marker had been used to draw what was a very detailed cock and balls right onto his forehead. 

That morning, all he could think of was that ‘The Most Beautiful Man in the World’ had seen him like this. 

*********

Tom stumbled around the halls of his apartment building, tripping over his feet a few times but still managing to stay upright. He clicked his fingers as he walked and every now and then let out a whistle that didn’t pierce the air like his normal whistle due to the unlit smoke dangling in his mouth. 

“Here doggo.”

Tom cursed under his breath as no dog came running towards him.

“Oh don’t worry Tom. It will be easy to look after the neighbor's dog for a few nights while they are away. What could happen? Stupid fucking Smith.” Tom mumbled his complaints to the empty hallway, needing to get his frustration out somehow since he wasn’t able to smoke inside.

Two days ago Tom’s flatmate, Smith, brought home their neighbours dog after agreeing to look after it for 4 nights while they went away to some family event. Smith convinced Tom that looking after the dog would be the easiest £100 they would ever make. He was right for the most part. The dog was well behaved and since Smith went on daily runs anyway it wasn’t too much of a hassle to bring the dog along. But then Smith had another one of his genius ideas. A drinking game during the Nic Cage movie marathon that was on Tv that night. A drink for each crazy expression, a drink for each time he lost his shit, a shot when you recognized a meme. They didn’t even get through the first movie before both men were pissed off their face. They managed to keep it up for another movie before Smith had passed out on the couch. Deciding to grab a quick smoke before bed, Tom made his greatest mistake by opening the door without checking his surroundings, too distracted by putting a smoke in his mouth. Within a second of the door opening, the little ball of brown and white poof they were watching ran out of the flat and into the halls. 

And that is why Tom has spent the past 10 minutes stumbling around looking for a dog that wasn’t even his at 1am while completely wasted. 

After completing what felt like his 4th loop of the hallway, Tom looked over at the garbage shoot on the wall. 

Completely out of ideas and his fuzzy brain telling him the logic made sense, Tom made his way over to the shoot and began to slowly open the hatch. 

“Dog? Hello?”

“Woof.” 

Tom jumped at the unexpected reply and opened the hatch further.

“Doggo?”

“Um, I don’t think your dog is down there. I don’t even think it could open the hatch.”  
Even more confused by the new strange voice, Tom leans closer to the hatch.

“Not doggo?”

“No, not doggo.”

He hears a chuckle come from the strange man as he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around. The site in front of Tom caused him to lose his grip in the hatch and it slammed shut, filling the hallway with a loud ‘bang’. 

Standing in front of Tom is what he can only describe as ‘the world’s most beautiful man’, holding the dog Tom had been searching for. After giving the man and dog a glance over, he suddenly remembered the horrible state he was in. 

His hair was all over the place, his beanie long since forgotten after a play fight with Smith. His beard was a birdsnest in need of a trim, one he had been putting off for way too long. Not to mention there were alcohol stains on his clothes. All in all Tom looked like he was a homeless man. 

“I take it this is the dog you have been looking for?”

Tom quickly pulled the unlit smoke from his mouth. 

“Uh yeah thanks. Little bugger ran out on me the second I opened the door.”

After shoving the smoke in his back pocket, Tom reached out and took the dog off the man's hands.

“I’ve heard that’s what they like to do.”  
Before Tom could even think about starting to flirt, he noticed the stranger rub his bare arms, red rashes clearly visible.

“Oh you fucking idiot. You’re allergic to dogs.”   
As to completely prove his point, the man before him sneezed. 

“That’s it. I’m taking this little shit far away from you so you don’t die or something.”  
Before the stranger could reply, Tom walked off around the corner and back into his apartment.

Sliding down the door, he let the dog go and the ball of fluff ran off and jumped on the very much asleep Smith on the couch, joining the man in sleep.   
Tom banged his head against the door before he slumped over and laid on his side.

“Fucking adorable devil dog.”

*********

“What do you mean, you threw it out!?” Ross asked, his face pale. 

“It looked like rubbish.” Lewis shrugged from his position on the sofa. “It’s not a big deal, it was just a box.” 

Ross blinked at him, fighting the urge to yell at his roommate. “You- fucking-.” Ross paused for a moment to scrub at his stubbly face. “My work memory stick was in there. It has fucking everything on it.” 

Lewis at least had the sense to balk at that. “The guys probably haven't been to empty the bins yet.”

Ross shot Lewis a dirty look before walking over to shove his bare feet into this well worn trainers, the hems of his old, ratty sweatpants not even close to brushing the tops of his shoes. He shoved his keys into the left pocket, avoiding using the ripped right as he would have been sure to lose them from it. 

He ran his hand through his flattened hair as he slammed the door shut behind him and tried to pull the sleeves of the awful christmas jumper that he had been lazing about in, in July, down to his wrists. 

Thankfully, the early hour of the morning meant that he passed no one on his way down to the basement. He unfortunately wasn’t so lucky when it came to finding the elusive memory stick. 

Lewis had said he had thrown it out only a few hours previously, but it looked as though many more people in the flats had also been throwing out their rubbish as the bin at the bottom of the shoot was full to the brim. 

Ross sighed and got to work, pulling bag after bag out of the large metal container and grimacing whenever one dripped with unknown substances. 

He was reaching the middle of the large bin, practically dangling over the edge with one foot off the ground and reaching inside when he heard a cough from behind him. 

At the sound, Ross almost lost his balance and had to use both hands on some of the rubbish inside to stop himself falling on completely. “Shit, fuck.” 

“Need some help?” 

Ross’ heart stopped. It was not possible. He knew that voice. “No, I’m good.” He managed to squeak back before finally pushing himself up and back out to land on his feet.

With deliberate slowness, Ross turned around and looked into the eyes of ‘The Most Beautiful Man in the World’. 

*********

For once in his life, Tom’s misfortune could not be blamed on Smith. Though that wasn’t going to stop the man once he got home. If he got home. 

It had been just a stream of bad luck after bad luck. 

He had started his morning off at the gym, after too many jokes by Smith about his flabby belly. He finished after an hour, not exactly fit enough to even attempt to stay a minute longer and decided to treat himself to a nice, hot shower before going about the rest of the day's jobs. However in the mere 10 minutes he was in the shower someone had come into the locker rooms and stolen, of all things, his shoes. The one item he thought the didn’t need to bother locking up. Gone. He complained to the front desk, but unsurprisingly they didn’t seem too invested in a shoe thief, only promising to take a look into their security. So Tom was forced to walk down the busy street, in nothing but socks until he could reach the nearest shop to buy a new pair. 

It took him 15 grueling minutes to get to the shop, 5 minutes longer than usual as Tom had to watch his step, making sure there was no glass on the path. He walked to the cheapest pair of shoes and picked up a box in his size not really caring. He dumped the box on the counter and smiled at the cashier's small talk.

“That will be 10.50 thanks.”

Tom reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet and felt nothing inside. Panicking, Tom checked all of his other pockets and then his small gym bag before groaning. He had been pickpocketed.

“You know what, I don’t need the shoes. Thanks anyway.”

With that, Tom left the store and the confused woman behind. He made his way to the nearest bench and sat down to access the damage.  
It seemed that some of the people that had bumped into him while he was walking slowly weren’t just annoyed pedestrians. His wallet and phone had both been taken. Leaving Tom without a bus pass to get home or a phone to call for help. 

Tom quickly estimated how long it would take him to walk home. An hour maybe, but without his shoes probably closer to two. 

So Tom groaned as he stood up and began the journey home. 

30 minutes into the trek home and Tom’s amazing luck came back again. Some fucking prick decided it would be hilarious to trip Tom up right in front of a dirty mattress.

As Tom fell face first into the mattress, his beanie slipped off his head and landed on the ground in front of him. 

“GAHHH!” Tom screamed into the mattress, absolutely fed up with the day. Unwilling to get up, Tom simply turned his head to the side just in time to see some coins fall into his beanie. 

“Oh wait I’m not…”   
Tom’s plea was heard by no one, people moving too quickly along the busy street. Looking at the money, Tom had an idea. Only a few more donations like that and he could catch a bus the rest of the way home. So there Tom decided to lay, waiting for people to pass that felt enough pity. Over the next 20 minutes, people passed and silently placed some change into the beanie, he nearly had enough for the bus when a very familiar voice broke through the bustling sounds of the city.

“I heard that dogs can be expensive, but I didn’t realise they cost more than rent.”  
Tom’s eyes widened as he looked up at ‘The Most Beautiful Man in the World’, who was holding a crisp tenner. 

“I….I… I’m not…” Come on Tom, just say you aren’t homeless! 

“Hope this helps.” The beautiful man dropped the money in the beanie and walked off, just as Tom’s brain finally decided to connect to his mouth.

“I’m not homeless!” When no response came, Tom picked up the beanie full of money and began to make his way towards the nearest bus stop. Grumbling to himself as he walked.

“Worst. Day. Ever.”

*********

Ross sighed as he swirled the beer around in his glass, looking over at Lewis who was currently purchasing them another round. It had been a shitty couple of weeks. Work had been tough and he was glad that his latest project was finally over and it was the weekend. 

“You still want to get food later?” Lewis asked as he set their drinks down and practically fell into his seat opposite Ross. 

Ross downed the rest of his current drink and nodded before swallowing. “As long as it’s not pizza again.” 

Lewis nodded his head in agreement. “Four nights in a row would be a record, even for us.” 

“We should cook more.” Ross said, picking up his new drink in preparation for taking a sip.

Lewis mirrored him by picking up his own. “You should cook more.” Lewis countered. “I’m likely to kill us both with undercooked chicken or something.” He continued, noticing that Ross didn’t seem to be paying any attention to what he had said and was instead staring over at the bar. 

Lewis followed his friends eyeline to where a ridiculously tall man with sandy brown hair and a trimmed beard was casually leaning against the bar and watching the front door. 

“It’s him.” Ross said, slowly lowering his glass back to the table but not relinquishing his hold on it. 

“Who?” Lewis questioned, studying the blush creeping up his friend’s face for a moment before answering his own question. “The guy from 418?” 

Ross nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the man at the bar. 

“He looks nothing like ‘the way sun spills over water at dusk’ or whatever other poetic bollocks you came out with.” 

*********

With a quick flick, the cigarette butt in Tom’s hand fell to the ground and was quickly put out with the toe of the man’s boot. He stood there for a minute longer than necessary, breathing in the cool evening air as a way to further relax.

It felt like this was the first time he was able to take a break and breathe in weeks. Every part of his life seemed to be chaos at the moment, from work being short staffed to his family going through some stupid drama he had somehow ended up in the middle of.   
He was insanely grateful that his best friend was the type of person whose answer to life's problems was a pint at the pub. 

Deciding that he needed that drink now, Tom made his way into the busy pub. It was still considered early by most but the pub was filled with young people who had clearly just finished a week of stress filled work. Out of pure curiosity Tom scanned the crowed area, not really expecting to notice anyone. 

So when his eyes met a familiar light brown, he couldn’t help that his mind went blank and no longer noticed the stool directly in his path. 

Everything seemed to happen so fast, one moment Tom lost his footing and the next thing he knew he was being dipped in Smith’s arms like some damsel caught in a dead faint. 

“Careful.” Smith said, laughing and pushing Tom back to a standing position. “I swear to god, one of these days you will break your neck.” 

Tom stayed silent, wide eyes focused on something behind Smith. 

Smith turned, following Tom’s eyeline to a table where two dark haired man sat. Piercing blue eyes met Smith’s as the man at the table took a swig of what appeared to be lager. Smith raised a brow and smiled at the man, holding a hand in silent greeting. The man smiled back, a good portion of the liquid that he had yet to swallow spilling from his parted lips and falling back into his glass. “It’s dickhead boy.” Smith said to Tom next to him. 

“Which one?” Tom asked, sounding as if he was worried what the answer would be. “Because, one of them is the guy I told you about.” 

Smith looked both men over. “Well, neither really strikes me as ‘pretty as the shining sequins embroidered into the dark sky’.” The taller man said mockingly. “But I’m going to assume you are talking about the one trying not to laugh at you.”

Tom nodded. “Yeah.” He said. “Do you think that being in the pub and actually being presentable is going to convince him that I’m not homeless?” 

Smith shrugged, picking up his drink from the bar. “Let’s go see, shall we?” Smith started walking over completely ignoring Tom’s whispered ‘no’s’ as he followed a few steps behind. 

*********

Ross felt himself flash red in embarrassment, scrubbing at the lower portion of his face to try and get rid of any drops of lager that might be clinging to his stubble. 

“Smooth.” Lewis commented. 

“Fuck off.” Ross shot back, his words barely heated as he poignantly avoided looking over at the bar. “Why does this happen every single time I see him?” He complained.

Lewis didn’t reply right away. “Same reason that every time I see the other guy around everything gives off homeless vibes.” He hypothesised. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t homeless and lives in our building.” 

Ross glanced to the side, his eyes seeking out the men that they were talking about without any conscious thought. A sound, not unlike a squeak left his mouth. “Why are they coming over here?” He asked Lewis in a panic. 

Lewis didn't have time to answer other than to shrug before the two men arrived at their table.

“These seats taken?” The man with the glasses asked, gesturing to the two empty chairs at Ross and Lewis’ table. 

“No.” Lewis said. “Please, join us.” He continued. “I’m Lewis and this is Ross.” He said motioning to his friend. 

The man he had been addressing didn’t answer, instead his taller friend spoke. “I’m Smith and this is my roommate Tom, who lives in a flat and is definitely not a homeless.” Smith said, giving a large two thumbs up to his friend with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“I hate you.” Tom said, his voice monotone. 

“Nice to meet you.” Lewis said with a smile. “Ross, why don't you tell these lovely gentlemen about your work and how much of an adult and not a complete disaster you are?” 

Ross narrowed his eyes at Lewis. “Or we could talk about the time that Lewis got so drunk that he went to put something in the bin and locked himself out of the flat in his underwear and had to wait over 2 hours for me to come back and let him inside?” 

Tom laughed. “How about the time that Smith here.” He said poking a finger towards his friend. “Tried to serenade his ex by playing guitar and singing outside his window in uni but got the wrong window?” 

Smith barked a laugh. “You think that’s bad?” He shot back. “How about the time that Tom fell asleep on a park bench during an all nighter in high school and we had to practically carry him home?” 

“Homeless seems to be your aesthetic.” Lewis commented with a laugh. “Although, I can’t say it doesn’t suit you, in a hot coffee shop hipster kind of way.” 

Tom smiled and adjusted his beanie on his head. “Thanks.”

Smith looked from his friend to Tom and opened his mouth to start what was undoubtedly going to be another ribbing triad when two other people arrived at the table. 

“Alright, Sunshine’s?” Trott said as Katie standing next to him also offered a ‘hey’. “Didn’t realise you all knew each other.” He continued as he turned and pulled two extra chairs from a nearby table for himself and Katie to sit. 

“You know Trott?” Ross asked both Smith and Tom. 

“The three of us went to highschool together.” Tom answered. “How do you guys know him?” 

“I work with Katie.” Ross answered. “Hit it off with Trott at a work do and we’ve been friends since. Even if he does draw dicks on me in my sleep.” 

Smith shook his head. “I should have fucking known.” He said. “No one can draw a dick like Trotty, I should have recognised the craftsmanship.” 

Trott’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait.” He said, holding up a hand to halt any further talk. “You’re ‘dickface’.” He said pointing to Ross. “And you-” He said pointing to Smith but looking at Ross. 

“Shut up.” Ross interjected. “Do not.” 

A grin spread across Trott’s face. “This is ‘The Most Beautiful Man In The World’ whose voice is so heavenly that even angel weep when they hear it?” 

Ross had never wished the ground to open up and swallow him so much in his entire life. 

Smith looked between the two men before watching as Ross turned red in the face. “And you haven’t even heard me sing yet.” He said. “How about I play you something sometime and we’ll see if I can get you to spontaneously combust?” 

Lewis completely lost it at the look on Ross’ face. How he was able to seem so embarrassed and yet flattered was strange. 

Smith could tell that Ross still felt too embarrassed to even speak and he knew exactly how to even the odds. “If it makes you feel any better, Tom told me that Lewis’ smile is like ‘the all encompassing warmth of a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter's day’ and his eyes ‘glisten like the first drops of dew on a fresh spring morning’.” 

Ross couldn’t help but laugh, temporarily forgetting about his own embarrassment. 

Smith stood from his seat, offering his hand to help Ross up. “How about it?” 

Ross nodded and took Smith’s hand, standing the two men made their way out of the pub without so much as a goodbye to their friends. 

Trott rolled his eyes at Smith’s confidence and turned back to the two men still at the table. “So, you never did say how you know each other?” 

“This is the not homeless guy.” Lewis said, knowing that Trott would figure it out sooner or later. 

Tom looked away for a second before putting his own two cents in. “This is dog allergy guy.” 

“And this is going to get real awkward.” Katie said, standing from her seat. “Come on, Chris. You can take me to the cinema instead.” 

Trott pouted. “But how am I meant to poke fun if I’m not here?” He asked, resisting being pulled from his seat by the redhead. 

“Kind of the point.” Katie replied. “See you later, guys. Have fun.” She said as she finally got Trott to stand. 

The couple made their way to the door, Trott only stopping a second and turning. “USE PROTECTION!” He shouted before heading through the door and out to the street with his girlfriend. 

Tom slammed his head down onto the table with enough force to rattle the glasses. “I hate everything.”

“I don’t know man. I mean if anyone told me to my face that my smile was ‘like the all encompassing warmth of a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter's day’, I would definitely want to take them out on a date. Especially if they have the hot homeless hipster look nailed.”

Tom lifted his head from the table, a small smile lifting his lips as he regarded the other man. “I haven’t eaten yet and there is this nice place down the road.”

Lewis quickly stood up at Tom’s suggestion. “I thought you would never ask.”


End file.
